


Copper.

by reidbyers



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 14:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12509212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reidbyers/pseuds/reidbyers
Summary: After a long day at the gym kicking ass, the only thing you wanted was to get back home to your boyfriend who too had probably kicked ass the night before. Loving someone who was hurt so frequently wasn’t easy and it didn’t get easier ever, but loving someone at all was worth all the pain.





	Copper.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to see more Matt x reader fics, please go request them on my Tumblr "reidbyers" !

The smell of copper had almost become comforting, like the scent of freshly washed blankets or a candle lit for just long enough so you can smell the scent but not the burning of the wick. It wasn’t the smell of pure copper though, not pennies or electrical wiring but rather the extremely distinct scent and flavour of blood, it sounded strange to anyone who wasn’t a boxer but to you it made perfect sense. When you smelt it in the air you knew things were getting fired up, someone was going down sooner or later and that was when the adrenaline really started to kick it. It was like a drug, only far less dangerous which is what you told everyone who complained about the injuries you received.

When you lived in Hell’s Kitchen it was pretty much promised that at some point you were going to get hurt, someone was going to try and mug you or you’d get involved in the wrong crowd and dig yourself into a hole too deep, it was inevitable that at some point you would go home with cuts or bruises, or scared for your life. This was the argument you always gave to people like Foggy or Karen when you’d visit the office and they’d catch a glimpse at the black eye or the bruised cheekbone and immediately rail off onto one of their many rants, ones you swore they planned in advance.

Foggy’s favourite was to call Matt over despite knowing he of course was listening from the other room and reel off your injuries to him. (“I’m no doctor but that looks like a broken nose to me, unless it’s always been that crooked in case my bad I’m an asshole. What else, there’s the bruised eye socket, right eye if you were wondering, bloody lip, just general black and blues everywhere.”) Matt while not enjoying the image of you hurt knew there was nothing he could do about it, sometimes it felt as though you were more stubborn than he was which was something to be admired but also, was a pain in the ass.

If he also didn’t occasionally turn up to the apartment all bloody then maybe he’d have a foot to stand on, the few times he had told you that he didn’t like knowing that you went out there and got hurt you flipped the conversation back on him and told him that if he could stop jumping round the city getting the shit beaten out of him then you would stop boxing. The reason you worked together so well was because you were similar, Matt did what he did and didn’t always care about the consequences and you did the same, you tended for the other when they got hurt and validated the reasons behind their passion. Maybe you didn’t always understand the complex he had but he rarely questioned you, it was only fair to do the same for him.

There was never any point in trying to hide your injuries or how bad they hurt, before you even entered the apartment Matt knew whether or not he needed to get the first aid kit out. Like you he could smell the blood, that unpleasant metallic scent that came with getting the shit beat out of you for a living. He could also tell whether or not you had won the match, you didn’t do it professionally but every now and then the fighters at your gym would hold a match. Your heartbeat was faster than usual which meant you were excited to tell him that you had won, a thought that brought a small smile onto his face. By the time you had unlocked the apartment door and wandered inside Matt had already located the first aid kit which was sat on top of the fridge and was rummaging around inside it.

You turned the corner towards the kitchen and paused at the sight of Matt standing there, he was wearing those ridiculously fluffy socks that you’d teased him about on multiple occasions but only playfully since you knew he could only handle certain fabrics, a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie you were willing to bet he was wearing with nothing on underneath. It was his signature “I’m hurt and need only the softest of clothing to make me feel better” outfit, or at least that was what you thought it meant because he pretty much only wore it after a particularly bad night. He heard you walk around the corner and turned his head to face you, looking just past you with hazy eyes.

“You should see the other guy.” You joked before dumping your bag out of the way and walking around to the other side of the kitchen counter, and leaning down against it, smiling proudly to yourself as Matt chuckled at the joke even if it was at his expense. You knew he hated when people treated him as though he was glass, another thing you had in common so to some degree you both needed a bit of tough loving, he’d pick on you occasionally for what he imagined to be your mess of a nose from it being bloody and fractured so many times and you made the occasional blind joke - a fair trade.

“No fractures, I’m impressed.” You shrugged off Matt’s comment with a smile, after punching guys within a ring for an hour on and off everything would be sore so the stinging in your side didn’t worry you too much, much like how the smell of blood didn’t freak you out you didn’t mind the odd ache here and there. They were reminders that you had kicked ass, even if you got them because you lost, they told you that you had tried until you couldn’t anymore and that itself was a victory. What you really wanted was to go take a shower because you felt gross all sweaty but the first aid came first, always did.

Sometimes you worried that you brought back some memories that Matt didn’t always want to think about, his dad had been a boxer as well and that hadn’t ended so well for him, he also fixed him up after fights. He’d never mentioned the connection out loud but you knew he must have made it, if you were in his position you didn’t know if you could turn away and not get emotional thinking about what had gone wrong, Matt was tough though and when it came to you he was remarkably good at hiding things away. If something was wrong you couldn’t tell, so all you could do was play pretend you didn’t have your own doubts.

“What can I say, I’m a professional.” You said and once more Matt smiled, he pulled out the aspirin and slid the bottle across the counter and you caught it, taking two pills for the headache you had after being pushed around. Next came the sterile pad, for the cut decorating just below your right eye but apart from that, there wasn’t much else help you could get. All your other injuries were going to be bruises, you could feel a mean one brewing on your waist and another on your jaw from when you miscalculated when to dodge and the guy landed a solid punch to your face. It was nothing major though, if anything you were glad that they were willing to fight you when so many people didn’t want to punch a girl. “I’m goin’ to go take a shower, won’t be long.”

“Wait-” Just after you had grabbed the sterile pad from the counter and turned with the intention of doing as you’d just said, Matt reached out and grabbed a gentle hold of your arm just above your elbow. At first you were confused but when he tugged on your arm to bring you back over to the counter, he then leant over and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes when you felt his lips against your skin, even though you didn’t like being treated as though you were delicate there was something so nice about how tender he was with you, and you knew he felt the same way. It wasn’t as though he’d never admit it because you knew you could get it out of him sooner or later, but he could crave a soft touch now and then. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He mumbled against you, his voice somehow low and gentle at the same time, despite being together since just after college things so simple about him drove you crazy.

Instead of replying with some snarky comeback, you tilted your head up and captured him in a proper kiss. It was soft and didn’t last long but it said everything you wanted to say for you - I’m glad you are okay as well and you don’t need to worry about me. There was some comfort that was brought to Matt relating to you and your love for the ring, you were prepared to protect yourself if the situation ever arose and while he was doing everything he could to stop that from even being something you had to worry about he didn’t doubt for a second you would put up a fight. When you pulled back from the kiss you placed another on his scruffy cheek, choosing to avoid the bruising there - at least he washed the blood off.

“You’re getting sappy.” You called back to him on your way to the bathroom and Matt chuckled and closed the first aid kit up before walking back to the fridge, putting his hand out briefly just so he didn’t knock into it. Even though you knew he’d know you were still there, you stood watching him for a few moments, he slid the first aid kit back to the top of the fridge and then tucked his hands into the pocket at the front of his hoodie. He looked positively adorable as he walked back over to the couch, a mess but a cute one.

“Me? Never.” He said between a small laugh, you smiled to yourself and scurried away to the bathroom just as he sat back down. While a shower did sound good, cuddling up with your boyfriend sounded infinitely better and so you choose to be as quick as possible.

The perks of showering at Matt’s apartment was that you got to use his things, he always smelt so nice even when he’d just come back from a patrol as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and you put most of that up to just him but you liked to use all the other things. Nothing that smelt incredibly strong due to his heightened senses but clean, comforting, smells were something you thought about a lot due to him and you put a lot into what you used normally, from previous experiences you knew he got a kind of possessive feeling when he smelt you wearing his things.

You were gone for maybe fifteen minutes, despite being sore you’d learnt to suck it up by now and once you’d washed yourself and your hair you were out and eager to find something to wear since Matt’s apartment was so cold - probably why he needed those fluffy socks. You did have clothes in his room but it was rare that when you had a choice you would choose to wear them, you much preferred all of Matt’s soft clothes. His shirts were your favourite, they felt nice against your skin and smelt like him, the perfect things to sleep in because that was exactly what you were planning to do next. Days like this had a routine that was never purposeful but rather just fell into place, you were going to fall asleep on the couch with Matt whether you wanted to or not, because there was no way you could resist him.

When you walked back into the main part of the apartment you were met with the sight of Matt curled up on the couch, legs curled up and his arms near his chest, clearly he also thought it was too cold. He wasn’t asleep despite his eyes being closed and looking so peaceful but you still paused in the doorway and watched him for a few moments, even though you told him not to worry about you, you couldn’t always give him the same luxury. In your defence, you weren’t going out and trying to stop bad people with your fists and threatening words. Moments like this made you question if he really did those things, his blindness being the main reason you had denied it for so long but he just looked so small, so gentle.

“Matthew Murdock, you’re looking awfully cute.” He knew for certain he had never been referred to as cute as many times as he had by you, his eyes opened just as you perched on the end of the couch, it wasn’t big enough for two people to lay on but you made it work somehow. Matt looked forward and smiled, then he reached for you once again and you followed his pull so he didn’t have pull as hard. You were half laying on him and half on the couch, this was how you made it work together and even though you both winced, at least it was together.

He didn’t reply, instead just slotting his head into the crook of your neck and moving his arms around to wrap around your waist. Matt didn’t always enjoy cuddling, he needed his personal space more often than not but with you there were always exceptions to the rule. Even if you didn’t wake up cuddling, he would fall asleep with his arm around your waist just so he knew you were beside him as it brought him the greatest comfort. Whatever had happened to need him to be this close you were unaware of but you didn’t hate the feeling of him holding you so tight.

You laid there through the night, through the changes of the light outside which now bathed you both in a sharp yellow light opposed to the gentle blue from before. The city outside could be harsh, the lives you lead even harsher but each day no matter how hard the world tried to hit you down, you always ended up back in each others arms. Some days it was the only thought that kept Matt going, not even the desire to save this city enough when it seemed so corrupt. Nothing like that was important right now, the world outside was loud but inside was quiet, nothing but the sound of your breaths and the vague smell of copper which no matter what, always stuck around.


End file.
